Panic attack. That’s what I’m on the verge of. The world’s not okay, and my dreams are being swept away. I don’t know what apartment this is, but it’s not the one pictured on the internet. I try to inhale deeply, but my lungs won’t take in air.
This is the last apartment on the list and each one has been worse than the one before. Evidently, for me to afford a decent place to live, I must sell either my liver or my soul.
Jesse stands next to the large open window looking down at the squalor below. On the corner, someone is selling heroin. When we were on the sidewalk, there were two people shooting up. Jesse tugged on my hand, mumbling how we didn’t need to see the inside, but I did. I needed this place to be an oasis in the proverbial desert.
Jesse jumps, catches the bottom of the open window, performs a pull-up, and soon his feet are no longer touching the floor. He drops, and I blink. “Why isn’t it shutting?”
“It’s painted open. I’m guessing management keeps it this way so they don’t have to replace the glass for when the place is broken into. Easy access and all.” Jesse grins like a lunatic at the woman showing us the apartment. “Am I right?”
The realtor, who is in a pencil suit, stares blankly at Jesse, but she then glances at me with a smile. “Have you seen the bathroom? It has a claw-foot tub!”
“Did you hear that, Tink? Claw-foot. Practically sells the place.” He walks into the bathroom, I hear the sound of water in a sink and then he calls out, “Cool, brown water.”
The realtor’s cell rings, and she excuses herself to answer it in the hallway.
The printout of the gorgeous apartment in my price range crackles in my hand, and I spin as I try to find something redeemable. Anything. A tickling near my ankle; I glance down and my heart bursts past my rib cage. I scream and sprint across the room.
Jesse comes running out, and when he looks at the corner I’m pointing at while shouting something even I can’t understand, he places his hands in his pockets. “Look, it comes with pets.”
“It’s a rat!” I shout.
Jessie looks at me like I stated the obvious, because I just did.
“I hear rats are all the rage now. It’s the new dog. Their supposed to be super-smart. Like how they know how to tie you down to the bed first before they gnaw your eyes out.”
Not helping. “I can’t live with rats!”
“They do get a bad rap. Bubonic plague can do that. Do you think they can domesticate the stray ones or do you think that’s a genetic thing they breed into them?”
A new level of panic sets in, and I start to shake. “What am I going to do? I can’t live like this. I can’t live in any of these places and I had hoped and I had dreamed and . . .” I hold out the piece of paper that had contained my dreams. “They lied. All these places lied.”
“Yes,” he states plainly, and for a few seconds, I consider throwing the rat at him.
I spin, praying for an answer. “I’ll get a roommate. That will help. They can pay half, I can pay half.” We can move into an apartment where I won’t die of tetanus.
“Where are you going to find a roommate? Are any of your friends planning on moving out from their parents’ financial umbrella upon graduation as well?”
My friends are heading to college, maybe some to UK, but they’ll move into the dorms because they have parents who will help them. “I can find someone on the internet?”
“Great thinking,” Jesse says. “In your internet ad, are you going to be specific about the way you want them to kill you? I’d go with fast, but what do I know?”
I swing around and the glare I give Jesse causes him to step back two feet. “I’m teasing.”
“This isn’t funny!” I roar.
“I know, but if you don’t learn to laugh during the bad moments, life—a life that is already rough—will be rougher.”
My shoulders collapse, and Jesse crosses the room to me. He weaves an arm around my waist, and I press my head into his shoulder. His embrace is strong, it’s safe and I’m completely and utterly lost. “What am I going to do?”
“Take it one step at a time. You’re going to work for Glory as much as you can, you’re going to save every penny and you will think of better ways to get a roommate other than the internet. If you can’t afford to move into the dorms, I would find a better realtor, one who isn’t obsessed with claw-foot tubs, for help finding suitable studios in other parts of the city.”
I lift my head, and I’m grateful he still holds me close. “You knew this is what would happen, didn’t you?”
He nods, and I appreciate he doesn’t gloat. “If I told you, I don’t think you would have believed me. Reality is sometimes something people have to experience to believe.”
Sad part, he’s right.
“You have six months until graduation. That’s a long time, but it’s going to go by fast. I know you want college, but college, working a job and paying your own bills is a lot of work. It’s doable, but work. You need to buckle down, apply for a ton of scholarships and get that meeting with the financial aid counselor at the university like our tour guide suggested. If you remember, she said that they still might be able to help you financially even though your father is refusing to help.”
I sigh heavily. There’s a lot I haven’t considered, and there’s a lot I need to learn. Dreams don’t happen because I wish them into being. If I want freedom, I’ll have to work and work hard.
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough of real-world problems for the day,” he says. “Want to get out of here?”
“Definitely.”